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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26652727">Out of Duty</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silver37/pseuds/Silver37'>Silver37</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Age Difference, Angst, Blood and Gore, Canon-Typical Violence, Dark, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Drunk Sex, Dubious Consent, Explicit Language, First Time, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pre-Season/Series 01, Rare Pairings, Size Difference, Unhealthy Relationships</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 10:21:19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,177</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26652727</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silver37/pseuds/Silver37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Joffrey is a little shit and he gets what he wants, but does he truly know what he wants?</p><p>- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - </p><p>"Sandor has the loyalty to kill for the boy, to protect him from any harm, this is just proving his loyalty in a different way. He is an obedient dog, at least that's what he tells himself, when he closes the distance between them and bites down and into Joffrey's mouth without mercy. He won't be gentle, never been."</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Joffrey Baratheon/Sandor Clegane</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>32</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Out of Duty</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Please be aware of the tags, this story is happening right before HBO's Game of Thrones season one. I don't own anything.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The wine was sweet, Dornish, it left a sour but rich taste lingering in his mouth, it was a nice treat after a long day. Stuck in the high tower of the Red Keep wasn't all that strange for him, looking after the most important ... and probably the most hated person in the kingdom is a tough job, even for someone as capable as him.<br/>
Not many has the privilege to spend the night with the young prince and survive the experience, whilst drinking overpriced wine and mulling over such trivialities as the latest knights tournament failed contestants lack of sword fighting skills.</p><p>He took an other long swig of his cup, emptying it completely and gave a short thankful nod to the boy, who already harbored a pair of rosy cheeks from their drinks, the brat sure as hell doesn't have the admirable tolerance level of his father.<br/>
One can say many things about King Robert Baratheon, but he can drink all night and then still has the stamina to fuck half the city, surely queen Cersei isn't entirely fond of his activities, and the hundreds of bastards around Kingslanding which came with the over-adventurous nature of her husband.</p><p>Joffrey was a different case. </p><p>Sandor put down his glass, the metallic clank of the cup connecting with the wooden table brought the boy's attention to the now empty chalice in his hand.</p><p> </p><p>"You liked that?" Joffrey asks, purrs, more like. He's perfectly comfortable, content, the king of the castle, quite literally, reaching for the bottle on the table between them to pour an other glass for his bodyguard on duty.</p><p>"Tell me Dog, what do you do in your free time?" his pupils are dilated from the dimly lit room, the wine ... or maybe both, Sandor can’t tell, but the boy’s brilliant blue eyes are dark now as the night sky. The flickering shadows playing on his elegant features from the few candles lit around the royal chamber, their wavering light making him look like he just stepped out of a dream. </p><p>Sandor kept his face perfectly composed, his mind lazily grasps at the question as he watches the wine, once again dancing close to the brim of his cup. <em>What can he say,</em> he spends most of his time in the Red, Joffrey knows that, in the rare cases when he is off duty, he drinks himself under the table at some local inn and if he's lucky enough, he can get a round with some unfortunate wench that doesn't throw up just by looking at him.</p><p> </p><p>“Your Grace” he starts, contemplating on whether spilling the truth as it is, or sparing the kid from the filthy details would be more suitable for his Prince's mood, he'd seen heads rolling on the marble floor before because of some badly chosen words, so a question like this should never be taken lightly.</p><p>"I don't know „ he admitted at last, making his voice quite nonchalant "it depends" he slurs the words, his breath heavy and stinks of wine, but he is far from being drunk.</p><p> </p><p>"Depends on what exactly?" the boy peeps up, leaning on the table, sipping on his drink, focusing his shifting, all too curious attention on him. It's strange how Joffrey never shied away from looking at his hideously burned face, never showed not even the slightest hint of disgust. He is rather fascinated in fact, judging by the look on his face.</p><p>He knows full well how Joffrey really is, the little cunt was always captivated by the crude, violent side of things. He is rotten and cruel behind the beauty and pompousness of the royalty and he is one crazy son of a bitch that you have to be careful with. Not because that he would be a hard opponent, Sandor could probably snap the boy in half without much effort, but because of the power and authority he possesses.</p><p>Still, he ought to respond, even though keeping the Prince entertained is not part of his job and it's basically common knowledge what soldiers do in their time off.<br/>
He grunts in clear discomfort, despite the soothing effects of the wine, which he can definitely feel on himself already, the brat is buzzing with energy tonight, annoying as a wasp at an otherwise perfect picnic. But this is still much better than standing guard at the door all night without uttering a word.</p><p><br/>
As long as he can remember, he's watching over Joff, the boy never had a chance to engage with the other kids, he was only supposed to interact with the people in the Red Keep, and even though everyone lavish him with attention, the spoiled brat still always wants more.<br/>
He's tirelessly driven to seek and absorb recognition, like a sponge. He's suspicious that Joffrey's violent tendencies were only designed to satisfy his insatiable need for attention. But strange as it sounds, the bastard doesn't care about winning people over. He doesn't give a shit if they love him . . . seemingly.<br/>
<br/>
He wonders if anyone ever loved him, if the Prince ever got the chance to approach someone just to form some kind of normal relationship, but not a single time comes to his foggy mind, it's none of his business anyway, but right now he's the one who has to put up with the stupid questions, it's evident that the boy was raised without much guidance or direction in life.</p><p> </p><p>"It depends on a lot of things" he starts again, his patience is thin "but time passes by mostly with drinking and whoring...Your Grace" he reaches for his glass and takes a few gulps of the wine, just to avoid more questions, breaking eye contact whilst drinking, then wiping his dirty mouth on the side of his hand.</p><p>Joffrey, perching on the edge of the table, watches as droplets of the precious Dornish red escaping the Hound's lips and lazily snaking down on his stubble, down to the curve of the contracting muscles of his exposed throat, disappearing in the heavy layers of chainmail and steel armor. He wants to reach over and trace the man's fire maimed cheek with soft fingers, trail down to his strong jaw, exploring the outline of that wine stained coarse chin. </p><p>"Tell me more” he says instead, leaning back in his chair, closing his eyes, awaiting for the wave of information, but when the room remains silent he opens one sparkling blue eye, and peeks over the Hound under his dark blonde lashes, raising a brow questioningly.</p><p>“I'm sure you're aware that not answering when your Lord has asked you a question can get you in some undesired situations, Dog” he presses, knowing damn well, he's walking on thin ice.<br/>
<br/>
"What is it that Your Royal Highness wants to know?" the brute asks with mock deference, their eyes meet again and Joffrey holds his gaze, unashamed of using his position to keep the dry conversation going, swirling the wine in his cup.<br/>
<br/>
"Everything,” he smiles smugly "you must be popular with the ladies."<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
The Hound snorts, it's an ugly dark sound. He's unable to stop himself letting it escape from his lips, the statement sounds as ridiculous as it gets, no sane person would think that he can get a woman in bed without having paid for it first, but Joffrey is not exactly a sane person, if he really thinks about it.<br/>
<br/>
He clears his throat.<br/>
<br/>
"I'm afraid that the reality is rather disappointing, Your Grace."<br/>
<br/>
The words are spoken in a low voice, his former annoyance evaporated, his mood shifted. He hates to be reminded of how unsuccessful he is in the art of life and seduction. <em>Fuck it.</em><br/>
<br/>
He expected the boy to ridicule him, he's rather used to the advanced cruelty of his little lord, even though deep down he knows, he never had to feel the sharp nails and ruthlessness of the lion cub on his own skin. The kid was obviously idolizing him, having no better option for a father figure to look up to and worship, but Joffrey's reaction was still getting him by surprise. The boy looked thoughtful, completely ignoring the opportunity to pick at the weak spot, offered rather recklessly.</p><p>"I don't understand, you're an honorable man with promising future, you will be part of the Kingsguard when I take over the reigning of the Kingdom, and you could be a... " the Prince couldn't finish his sentence properly, his sworn shield just waved a hand disrespectfully at the praises.<br/>
<br/>
<em>What would he be without the Lannisters and Joffrey? A nobody with barely any lands to speak of. He is good at one thing, killing people, that's pretty darn far from honorable. He doesn't want to hear the rest.</em></p><p> </p><p>"Yar Grace will learn with time, that every woman, even the pitiful bitches at the closest brothel crave romance and they seek knights, not the ones hardened in war, no" he hisses "but ones as chivalrous and glorious as angels, like Ser Loras" he exclaims, spatting out the last few words, his speech became bold, letting the boy have a glimpse at his true feelings about knighthood.<br/>
He knows well how Joffrey would've finished his song of praises. <em>He could become a knight.</em> He developed an extreme contempt for the supposedly so honorable knights. The wine suddenly tastes bitter in his mouth, his mood is now completely ruined just by thinking about his brother and all those peacock knights with no real virtue or dignity, they'd butcher any innocent at given chance all the while claiming glory.<br/>
<br/>
Joffrey remained silent. <em>What would he even say to this?</em> The irritation of his dog is palpable in the air now, he should stop poking but it's almost too easy to rile up his sworn shield. He's taking mental notes of every word this huge man in front of him barks out in his sudden, wine fueled outburst. He should be afraid of someone as unpredictable and violent as the Hound, but he trusts him with his life, even though he knows what the man is capable of.<br/>
<br/>
He has seen his loyal guard in a battle rage before, covered in blood, breaking bones and crushing in the opponents skull with his large hands, fingers dipping in the eye sockets of some poor sod, bashing in heads and slicing guts open with his signature long sword, savaging and destroying everything like a dog gone ravage, biting away the last hope of the enemy in every combat, rabid and bloodthirsty. The images are living vividly in his memory, he should feel revulsion and horror, like everyone else when they see their supposedly calm protector disembowel someone, but he feels a spark of sick excitement rising in him at the mental image, a fire starting deep down in his groin and spreading all over his body. In the temporary silence of the room his breath hitches, letting out a barely audible moan.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
The man in front of him looked up at that, picking up the sound like the bloody hound he is, but the look on his face is rather confused, looking at his Prince with concern in his dark eyes.<br/>
<br/>
Joffrey's head is spinning a little already from drinking a bit too much, maybe a bit too fast, and having all the blood flowing south doesn't help the situation either, his chest rising and falling rapidly, making it harder to think clearly with each heartbeat. The Hound studies him for a second.<br/>
<br/>
"Your Grace. . . .? "he asks, voice raspy, lowering his glass.</p><p>Then, to Joffrey's horror, stands up and comes over to his side of the table, getting down on one knee in front of him, like a knight taking oaths, one of his enormous hands grabbing his shoulder firmly, yet with gentleness unexpected from someone like him, trying to figure out the danger his Prince might be in.<br/>
<br/>
<em>If the bastard chokes on the wine and dies on him, he's a dead fuckin' man, that's for bloody sure.</em> Sandor thinks grimly.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
He is examining the blushing boy, searching for clues, but only when their eyes meet again and he finally found himself looking into those blazing blue orbs, heavy with pent up desire, wild and intense .. . is when his eyes go wide and his mouth opens to form a voiceless:<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<em>“Oh”</em><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
Realization dawns on him, and he suddenly hears the blood drum in his ears. His heart, after doing a standstill, picks up it's pace to pound against his rib cage like there's no tomorrow, much like when he's facing an unknown, dangerous enemy. His body is slow and heavy like molten lava, but then in the next second, he lets go of the kid and abruptly springs up to his feet in an awkward swift motion.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
He clears his throat “I should stand guard outside Your Grace” he bows curtly, and leaves the room, not looking back, trying hard not to make it look like an escape run, but he knows damn well it would be hard to perceive the action otherwise.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<em>Seven fuckin' hells, that damned lad.</em>

He fumes and cusses under his breath as soon as he shuts the door of the royal chamber behind his back, wishing away the desperate, wanton look on the boy's face from his memory with no avail. <em>He is doomed.</em><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
Joffrey sat in the silence, trying to comprehend the quick turn of events. He wants to . . . .wants to, he doesn't even know what he wants right now, but he doesn't want to be alone.<br/>
<br/>
He wants to enjoy the night.<br/>
<br/>
He raises from the chair, the world is swaying with him and it takes a few second to find his balance, but his actions are sparked by temper now that he found a cause, he doesn't take no for an answer, no one can reject a Prince. He walked up to the heavy wooden door and tugged it open.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
Sandor is standing next to the door frame, his back to the wall, not even looking at opening door's direction, his body rigid with tension.<br/>
<br/>
“ I don't remember giving you an order to leave” Joffrey's voice is almost a whisper, yet it sounds more threatening than getting his head shouted off by the Prince. This is not a temper tantrum that he could handle with a few jokes. <em>His fate was sealed when he looked up at the boy a few minutes ago or maybe when he sat down drinking with him, it doesn't matter now, the sooner he accepts this, the better</em> Sandor thinks sourly.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
Joffrey is circling closer, brushing a hand over the cold breastplate of his armor, he can barely register the light press of those delicate fingers as the kid's looking up at him.<br/>
Those baby-blue eyes glassy from the extensive drinking, but they are full of emotion and stubborn determination.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
Sandor shakes his head, his prince is merely a child still, despite his cruel nature, he is looking so innocent on the surface, but that's far from the truth. The Hound could almost feel the air bending around them, the boy is taut as a bowstring and could snap at any minute.<br/>
<br/>
He looks down at that pale hand on his chest. He rarely feels intimidated, especially not by someone whom he could shatter in a second, but he is not in the position to disobey right know. Joffrey should know better what happens when you corner an animal, things can get ugly real quick. The situation doesn't need any second guesses, it's clear where things are heading. He knows the boy will get what he wants, <em>What the fuck does he want from a dog like him that's beyond him,</em> no matter the consequences, which in this case could prove to be fatal. Both of them could loose their heads, and him committing high treason is not a line he wanted to cross in his life. . .like . . .ever, not even when the order comes right from his master.<em> Perfect.</em><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
“ What do you want from me boy?“ the Hound growls, still tense, he knows he overstepped some boundaries already with basically running out of the door, but failing to address Joffrey the formal way borders on insolence. <em>He needs to hear that damned order, before he actually does anything. The Queen will be furious if she'll ever hear about this.</em><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
With that simple question Joffrey was hit by the frightening reality of just what he was on the verge of asking from his bodyguard. Sandor is a hound, not a lapdog.<br/>
He never had the courage to stand up to the man, he had the ability to guess the limits of his Dog and never ordered him do anything that the other would refuse to carry out, it was like a silent agreement between them, some kind of mutual respect. Now that it's broken, the man in front of him doesn't look pleased, on the contrary. . . he looks almost..... disappointed. But Joffrey won't turn away now, even though he's trembling at this stage with fear. . . and anticipation.<br/>
<br/>
“Dog” he rarely asks or begs for anything “ I command you to . . .” <em>to what exactly ?</em><br/>
<br/>
“ Say it out loud, you know I can't say no “ snarls the Hound in a guttural voice, getting tired of waiting for an answer. <em>The brat sure loosing his bloody mind. Who would've thought?</em><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
The low, hostile, rumbling sound makes Joffrey let out a soft whine and suddenly the man is on him, grabbing the front of his tunic and yanking him closer, their faces are mere inches away from each other, so close they share the same hot air between them with unsteady breaths, and uncertain glances, neither of them is bold enough to act on instinct. The unspoken words hanging above them like dark clouds.<br/>
<br/>
Joffrey inhaled the scent of the man deeply, his eyes fluttering shut, gulping down the panic bubbling up in his throat and tilting his head up, lips parting. He's yielding to the meanest beast in whole Westeros, but he is still unable to command the Hound to take him, his Lannister blood contains too much pride for that.<br/>
<br/>
“ Why aren't you scared of me? “ The man whispers in clear disbelief, searching for some sort of answer looking at the submissive form of the kid, but Joffrey has none to offer, he only knows that the brute power and violence of the man has him weak at the knees, and he wants to feel those callous hands on every inch of his body.<br/>
Spending every waking moment with the Hound, they both know they perpetuate each others poor qualities, like some kind of morbid echo, they're reflecting back their true nature to each other, reinforced and amplified, ugly to their cores.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
Sandor has the loyalty to kill for the boy, to protect him from any harm, this is just proving his loyalty in a different way. He is an obedient dog, at least that's what he tells himself, when he closes the distance between them and bites down and into Joffrey's mouth without mercy. <em>He won't be gentle, never been.</em><br/>
<br/>
The boy cries out at the sharp pain, but it's muffled by their kiss. Noses collide and teeth clink together whilst the sweet, coppery taste of blood from Joffrey's broken lips seeps into their mouths.<br/>
It's like a battle,vicious, dirty and unfair, they struggle to get the upper hand and devour the other, like hungry wolves without a hint of finesse or courtesy. Sandor doesn't care, he had his fair share of crazy bitches before, beggars can't be choosers. Banging the bloody prince will be no different, a cunt is a cunt after all, though he never had to fuck anyone out of duty.<br/>
<br/>
Joffrey reaches up to cup his face with both hands, deepening the kiss, his moves are clumsy and skittish, but he oozes confidence, he wants to feel and touch everything he was deprived of until now, finally letting his fingernails clawing their way into the sensitive flesh of that burned cheek.<br/>
<br/>
The Hound snaps at him in agony and spins them around, shoving the boy so hard back against the wall that it crumbles from the impact, and Joffrey could feel all the air's escaping his lungs at an instant.<br/>
<br/>
The man's huge frame blocking out everything else in sight, his enormous hands are all over him, lifting him up and pressing him against the cold stone behind his back, he feels small and frail. His Dog is forcing his legs open by squeezing one of his sturdy legs between his slender thighs.<br/>
<br/>
“Please. . .” Joffrey moans, squeaks pathetically, hardwired to respond as he feels the strong muscled leg pressing down deeper and makes contact with his restrained cock. The man's ducking his huge head down and nuzzles next to his ear, his breath ragged, he's nipping and biting down on the exposed flesh, marking him up by sucking hard on the gentle skin of his throat, tongue lapping at the fluttering pulse point.<br/>
<br/>
“. . . not here” he sighs against the new sensations, hoping the brute to hear him as fear rises in him again at the thought that his Dog might just raw him right there at the doorstep of the royal chamber, to anyone to see them.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
The Hound looks up, grabbing the boy's chin and crashing their lips together once more, rude, disrespectful and demanding. He is ready to take the lead and change their dynamic once and for all.<br/>
The boy smells so pure and delicious, it would be unspeakably rude to compare this perfect, pampered creature to the whores at the brothel, he is just a different breed 'Almost too good for him ' like a forbidden fruit, ripe and ready to be taken and he just wants to breathe him, lick him, eat him up to the last bit, he had never been with a highborn before.<br/>
<br/>
Joffrey felt a rush of helplessness, he very much like to drown in the sensation of feeling the weight of his bodyguard oh so lovely on his smaller frame, but he is so hyper aware of their surroundings. He's planting his hands on Sandor's shoulders and pushes him away with all his might.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
The Hound finds himself taking a stumbling step back, letting go of his Prince, although not entirely. He's thrown off balance and feels like a bloody fool for getting neck deep in this mess, with lips still moist from their kisses he studies the boy as anger washes over him. </p><p><br/>
<em>He is confused. He truly looks like a dog who just got a disciplining kick in the side without much understanding of the situation.</em> Joffrey thinks.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
“ I said NOT- Here! “ he glares daggers at him, his words are penetrating the silence.<br/>
<br/>
For a long moment they stare each other down, Sandor straightens up from his position, looming over the boy, but his rough hands remaining at Joffrey's waist, squeezing him an ounce tighter, now that he got a taste, things are different. He's itching to claim the short-sighted brat and fuck his brains out, consent or not.<br/>
As much as he did't want to get involved in the private matters of his Prince, it would be nigh painful to let go of it now. Like a cadaver getting a whiff of the first sweet, putrid smell of decay after a long time not feeling anything, he just can't afford letting it slip out of his grasp.<br/>
If Joffrey'd decide to back out of this now, he would probably just slip one of his daggers between the boy's ribs and rape his corpse anyway, his lips are curling into a predatory smile, his dick gives a twitch in his breeecher at the thought.<br/>
<br/>
The Prince was never been good at detecting danger, it would be all too easy.<br/>
<br/>
The silence between them grew darker with each passing second, Sandor stood there with his muscles ready to snap into action, but without moving an inch, heat pooling down in his belly, waiting for his prey to initiative, one wrong move and their game would be over.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
“Is this not what you want . . . Your Grace? “ he sneered.<br/>
<br/>
Joffrey is not intimidated by the tone and for some inexplicable reason, his eyes softened and he is squirming delicately in the dead grip to finally wriggle a hand out from between their bodies and reaches over to caress the burned side of the Hound's face.<br/>
<br/>
<em>But Sandor doesn't give half damn about gentle touches and nice words.</em> And just when he is on the verge to bite the hand that feeds him he hears...<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
“Sandor”<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
It's a soft whisper, a word he never thought he'd hear rolling off of the Prince's lips, listening to his name with so much fondness behind it caught him completely off guard.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
Then to both of their surprise, Sandor angled his ruined face to push into the hand, Joffrey's fingers catching on the bristles of his stubble, feeling the edges of that calloused skin under his fingertips. The Hound's anger and frustration visibly melting away and rolling off of him in waves, he is leaning into the soft, warm palm of his Lord, like a touch starved animal, letting the kid tame the beast in him.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
Joffrey's hand leaves his face, but the spell lingers, Sandor is still as a statue, his fingers are in white-knuckled grip on the boys narrow waist, he is utterly confused by the lad.<br/>
Joffrey uses this time to lean closer and brush his smooth lips against cracked ones, it's just a brief touch , but it's enough to bring Sandor back from his daze.<br/>
<br/>
“ Come “ he says, with a soft smile and the Hound finally manages to release him completely and gently place him down on the ground, untangling their intertwined limbs awkwardly, but he soon realizes that it was a mistake as Joffrey makes his first unsteady steps towards the royal chamber in a beeline.<br/>
<br/>
<em>He looks fuckin' piss-drunk to say at least.</em><br/>
<br/>
Joffrey could feel the wine sloshing around in his tummy and warming him from the inside, it's only adding more heat to his already burning body, his skin is on fire and the world is spinning around him, his vision is blurry and sparkling funnily around the edges, but he never felt this confident and right in his entire fourteen summers, with his Dog at his heels, closing the heavy wooden door behind them with a thud.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<em>There's no turning back.</em><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
Sandor hardly ever ponders over the moral of his actions, but taking advantage of the situation is just bodes bad with him. He’s not even sure what emotions he’s feeling. Too many at once for his usually bland state of mind, it's just too much to focus on, and his mind is whirling to a short-circuit, <strong><em>Gods, he wants this</em></strong> he's registering with a hint of disgust at himself and a soft ache of his heart as he advances on the boy.<br/>
But he never really got THAT permission to be precise and he doesnt't want to loose his head just yet. <em>Buggers.</em><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
He doesn't have much time to gather his thoughts though as Joffrey turns around to face him, and he nearly bumps into the boy, who swings his arms around his neck and pressing his body up to him, grinding down his hips, his cock digs into Sandor’s thigh and he feels as a shiver of excitement ran down his spine, making the decision for him instead of his brain.<br/>
He would have never guessed himself to be someone that gets off on having the insufferable little cunt dry humping his thigh, but life is full of surprises. His own arousal is a shameful proof enough.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
Sandor looms over his Prince, gathering the lad in a tight embrace, panting in unusion with him, building up their rhythm, feeling each other up trough several layers of expensive clothes and armor.<br/>
His nose buried in the silken soft mess of Joffrey's hair, breathing in the smell of sweet wine, luxurious soap and the boy's natural earthy tones lying deep below the layers of milk and honey, his scent is mouthwatering and he groans as his lungs fill up on it, never wanting to let go.<br/>
<br/>
His huge hands raking through golden locks, tipping the boy's head up to take possession of those bruised lips again, and Joffrey goes along with him so beautifully, melting into the touch. The feeling of power rushing trough him as he changes the sloppy and slow movements of his tongue to lick deep into the boy's mouth, exploring the wet cavern and Joffrey mewls under his ministrations, the muscles of his throat are trembling with protest, but he gives over full control.<br/>
<em>He is beautiful, and Sandor begs for forgiveness from the Gods for what he is about to do, hoping the price won't be too high.</em><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
Sandor growls, his tone is raw with desire as he's breaking the kiss and pushing Joffrey to the ground. His master looks up at him with wide eyes as his knees hitting the hard cold floor beneath them.<br/>
<br/>
"What are you . . .” it's not a protest, but close to it.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
He's almost sure that that the precious Prince expected this to be the other way around, but it matters little to him what he wants or expects from him tonight. He towers over the boy then reaches for the clasp of his belt and began to remove each piece of armor with care, letting the heavy metal scatter around them on the stone. Joffrey hunkered down in front of him and braced himself with his hands on each side of his Dog's thighs.<br/>
Seeing the Prince on his knees like this makes the Hound's blood boil with excitement of what about to come, his thoughts spiraling out of control to the point, he just can't imagining closing the night without defiling the boy.<br/>
<br/>
Joffrey could see the bulge tenting the man's breeches and his cheeks flushed as without a second thought, he leaned into that inviting warmth and mouthed against his sell-sword's hardening manhood.<br/>
<br/>
<em>Seven bloody Hells.</em> Sandor grabbed the boy's head and grinded hard against him, unable to get a hold on his want, eyes fluttering shut as they both groaned with pleasure at the contact.<br/>
Feeling the heat of the boy cheeks on his dick gets almost unbearable and he reaches for the laces of his trousers, freeing his throbbing length quickly from it's prison.<br/>
<br/>
“Suck“ his voice is hoarse, he takes a grip of the boy's short blonde curls, guiding him to his already hard and glistering cock.<br/>
<br/>
And Joffrey, once in his bloody life does as he's told "Not like he'd had any other option though" bowing his proud head low and curling his lips around the angry red head of the Hound's dick, only glancing up briefly, hoping to catch a glint of approval in those dark grey eyes, but Sandor's mind goes blank and his eyes losing focus. With that, His Majesty is just one of the many cunts in the filthy city, but the similarities end there. Sandor feels young, like a moonstruck green knight getting it's first blowjob at the back of the stables, trying to forget all the guilt from taking advantage of the situation weighting down his shoulders, as he draws slow circles on the boys scalp in encouragement, pulling on the strands ever so lightly.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
Joffrey is unquestionably a beginner, but his drunken eagerness makes up for it, his lips are soft and he bobs his pretty little royal head shamelessly, trying to gulp down more and more of his guard's length, sharp teeth scraping the underside of Sandor's cock, tongue lapping and swirling around the smooth, salty head. It's all too much and not quite enough at the same time, the Hound yanks on the grip of hair in his hand,<em> Look at me</em>, and Joffrey blinks up with hazy, bloodshot eyes, his tongue flickering over the slit, hands trembling at the base of the cock that fills his small mouth.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
“ You can handle it boy “ Sandor rasps.<br/>
<br/>
That's all the warning Joffrey got, his eyes opened wide as the understanding came over him, but nothing could've prepared him for the intrusion as the Hound buried himself in to the hilt in his throat with one swift movement of his hips, forcing that blonde head down.<br/>
<br/>
The man's coarse pubic hair pressed up to his nose, and Joffrey is choking and gagging violently, trying to accommodate but failing miserably as the Hound pulled out and slammed back again with the force of a battering ram, tears welled in the corners of Joffrey's eyes and he's swallowing hard against the foreign object, saliva trickling down on his chin. His hands clinging to the legs of his bodyguard for balance.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
Sandor was basking in the thrilling experience, bottoming out in the young Prince's twisting silky throat. <em>Life sure doesn't get any better than this.</em> The boy is almost frothing at the mouth, coughing and spurting, every time he withdraws enough to have some space to hammer back in, rivulets of saliva dripping down to his dirty leather boots.<br/>
His heart thumping heavily with each trust until he pulls out abruptly with an obscene pop, just right before he would be unable to detach himself from the boy.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
Joffrey drops to all four, coughing and gasping for air, now that his airways are clear, he feels the wine rises in his sore throat. It takes monumental effort to force back everything that wants to leave his body and control his breathing back to a relatively normal level.<br/>
<br/>
He ached to just order the man in front of him to be executed, he might as well just punch him in the face and throw the fuckin' animal out of the room.<br/>
But he feels the other's strong hands grabbing his hips from behind <em>When did he walked behind him?!</em><br/>
<br/>
“ What!? ”<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
If the Dog thinks he can take him from behind like he is some kind of common bitch, he is dead wrong. Joffrey flips and kicks the Hounds hands away, earning back some of his self-esteem, but the man crawls above him, pinning the boys hands above his head effortlessly with one of his huge hands.<br/>
<br/>
“ What do you think you're doing Dog? “ Joffrey spats, looking up at his guard, he doesn't want to loose control, but there's nothing he could do anymore. He wanted this, he still does. . . but not like this.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
“ Not Sandor anymore,eh? “ his Dog sneers back, his grey eyes are filled with desire, but frustration and disappointment lacing his words. <em>He is hurt, Joffrey realizes.</em><br/>
Sandor's free hand working on the top of the boy's ruined tunic, unlacing the garment with slow, trembling fingers to uncover the spotless, milky white skin of the prince.<br/>
<br/>
“ S-andor . ” it's a warning and an apology, <em>a very weak at that.</em><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
Joffrey's searching his hazy mind for the right words “Please, be gentle” he whispers at last, arching his body into the flat of the hand gliding down on his now bare chest. <em>He is afraid.</em><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
“ Aye, my lord ” the Hound nods in understatement, although it took all his self control not to roll his eyes or laugh at the request.<br/>
He's lowering his head to lay lazy, open-mouthed kisses on the boy's tummy, making his way down, pausing only briefly before tugging down the undergarments of the boy and taking him in his mouth.<br/>
<br/>
“Oh, Gods” Joffrey lets out a shaky breath, he wasn't aware he was holding until now, one of his hands slips out of the Hounds hold and he claps it over his own mouth to cover the moans, taking in the sight. He never let anyone this close, he feels like he could burst at any moment as the man easily swallowed him, his face flush to the soft blonde patch between his trembling legs.<br/>
<br/>
The Hound grunts and moves further down on him, grabbing the boy creamy thighs and pushing him back on the too cold floor until he could bury his nose into Joffreys heated skin.<br/>
<br/>
Joffrey can feel the hot breeze of the man's breath on his most private part and he lets out a small wince between his fingers as he feels the mans tongue probing at his hole. His mind just goes blank at the sensation as the wet muscle slips into his body, then withdraws again. The Hound laps at his tight hole unashamed, kneading his bum, and spreading him wider for the intrusion, licking into him, making him slick and wet like a whore.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
Then all too soon he straightens back up, and Joffrey finds himself stop breathing for a second. The Hound looks up at him and draws back to position himself between his thighs, then waits. Joffrey could tell he is holding back, his whole body looks rigid, his hands firm on his legs. He can already see the outline of the imprints of the man strong fingers on his waist from their earlier struggle.<br/>
<br/>
Joffrey let his hand fall from his mouth, bracing himself on the cold stone, then nods.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
Sandor, already gave up hearing a proper order or approval, didn't have to be told twice, his thick cock is rubbing against the boys opening, the preparation was only enough to lessen the friction between them, he pushes against the slick tight ring of muscle.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<em>It hurts.</em><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<em>And it hurts a LOT.</em> Joffrey lets out a cry at the sharp burning pain, he feels his eyes tearing up again as Sandor pushes in, inch by inch, humping the boys virgin hole in slow, shallow thrusts, until he finally manages to slide in fully. It's painful and uncomfortable, the Prince is clenching around him so tight it hurts and he wishes he was looking after a princess rather than a prince. <em>Things would be so much easier..... or maybe not</em> The Hound lets out a ragged breath, despite all the unpleasant circumstances he is raging hard. Sweat dripping down from his brows as he groans in frustration, holding back as much as he can, waiting for the boy to conform to him, there’s no good in ruining him completely.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
Joffrey breath catches in his chest, his insides are on fire, he is stretching around the Hounds length that's splitting him in half, probably ruining his bottom in the worst ways. He looks down to his usually flat tummy and there's a prominent swell running down there, the mans cock jutting out proudly under his own softening prick, Sandor withdraws gently and thrusting back again steadily, his dick filling up the boy, bulging his snow white skin with each strong move.<em> He just can't.</em><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
The Hound grabs Joffrey's hips, his fingers tracing those awful red bruises on the prince's skin and he rocks forward, diving in swift and deep, feeling the velvet soft walls of the boy clamp around him in distress, trying to reject him.<br/>
<br/>
“Try to relax, or else I'll hurt you” he rasped, looming over the boy, snapping his hips forward, but the advice is not much of a help for Joffrey, who never really felt any pain in his life before and now have to feel all that can be felt, he is sobbing from the burning ache.<br/>
<br/>
Sandor bent over more and nuzzled against the boys neck, kissing him softly as a lover would and Joffrey instantly curled around him, twisting a hand in the brown disheveled hair of his guard, holding on to him for dear life, the fat tears spilling from his eyes wetting Sandor broad shoulders, his labored breath humid against him, but it doesn't take long.<br/>
<br/>
He feels the boy's hardness returning and the strong grasp of muscles are finally easing up around him, his thrusts slide in more easily, facing less and less resistance. Something stirs at the base of his skull at that, the most primitive part of his brain urges him to take, claim and push the boy into full submission.<br/>
The Hound picks up his speed, finally letting his lust take over control and drives in with animalistic intensity, Joffrey bites back a whiny cry as his muscles give up fully and he lets the monster above him use his body, the burning pain intensifies and he can't resist anymore.<br/>
<br/>
His World turns upside down from the ongoing assault, and he finally sees trough the curtains of blood and pain, finding his own twisted pleasure in the violence, <em>This is exactly what he was dreaming about for so long,</em> a low moan escaping him.<br/>
<br/>
He find himself not being able to hold back the noises escaping his sore throat, and he is eager to respond the Hounds sloppy kisses, he bites and kisses him with matching ferocity. Sandor is so close, grunting with each push, feeling the boy under him accommodating to the new experience and going rough against him with all those brazen kisses and roaming hands. <em>It's everything.</em> Joffrey is catching up with his pace and meeting his thrusts, impaling himself on his thick cock. <em>The bloody masochist.</em><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
But he doesn't care if the Prince is hurt or damaged, his heart is racing and he is chasing his own release, it's been way too long.<em> Gods!</em> He draws back once more and slams back with full force, drawing the boy as close as physically possible, then stills balls deep within him.<br/>
<br/>
Time seems like it slowed down for Joffrey as Sandor pulls him close, throws his head back and he feels his guard's dick pulsing inside of him, filling him up with hot white spurts of seed and his own cock twitches in response.<br/>
<br/>
He's letting his orgasm wash over him, shutting his eyes close, squeezing tightly around the Hound's length, burring his face in the coarse black hair on the mans chest, breathing in the smell of sex and sweat.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
They're panting hard against each other, trying to catch their breaths. It goes like this for a while until the Hound moves and gathers Joffrey in his arms, standing up and slipping out of him.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
Joffrey feels hollow, but calm and so soo tired as the soreness of his body slowly fades to a dull throb, his inner thighs are wet with the sticky fluid that bleeds out of him, trickling down on his white legs leaving shiny scarlet traces behind.  He's placed on his feather bed, and only hears the indistinct soft rustle of clothes being gathered and armor being replaced, then everything goes blank.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
- - - - - - - - - -<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
He wakes with the first rays of the Sun as his Mother storms in to the chamber and letting him know that the whole court travels to the north, to visit Winterfell, so he better packs his belongings and fetch his bloody useless hound to do the same.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
Joffrey barely registers anything mentioned apart from the word “Hound” and he's instinctively brushing a hand against his sore throat as he wonders if yesterday has ever happened.</p>
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